Heartbreakers
by DustMarauder
Summary: Isabella and Rosalie Swan - or the Swan sisters - are vivacious models who are finally settling down for college. But will Palm Bay and all its beachy boys tame these ladies, or send them on a roller coaster of college parties and illicit substances?
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Isabella and Rosalie Swan, or as everyone else calls them, the Swans, are vivacious, outgoing, beautiful and worst of all, they're notorious heartbreakers. So will finally settling down and heading to college let them find stability and a real relationship, or will the parties and illicit substances prove far too tempting for these party girls.

**_Disclaimer - I own nothing_**

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><p>The sun set slowly over Miami's skyline, my windows glistening as the twinkle reflecting off the glass hit me square in the eye, waking me abruptly. On my bed next to me, passed out, was my twin sister and best friend, Rosalie Swan. She was still wearing the exact same outfit she had been last night – a black dress that fit her every curve like a glove – and her sparkly red Louboutin heels. I looked at the clock – it was almost 3.30 in the afternoon – and groaned, pulling myself out of bed. Glancing at the mirror, my eyes widened at my reflection.<p>

_Fuck_, I thought to myself, pulling on a bra from the floor that I assumed was mine. We were supposed to have gotten on the road hours ago, and by now we should have been unpacked and settled into our room at Palm Bay College, but apparently I'd forgotten to set an alarm after we'd stumbled in at 4am. 

Not every night was like this – in fact, the Swan sisters rarely ever drank. You didn't get to down alcohol whenever you wanted and remain a size two. But last night was our going away party, graciously thrown by Karl Lagerfeld himself, and I'd lost count of how many margaritas I'd had around the 7th. 

I stood up and pulled a small light blue sundress out of my wardrobe, throwing it over myself. It was flowy, but short, and I showcased my legs in a pair of beige wedges my mom had gotten me on her last trip to Australia.

"Rose," I called to my sister, who still had not stirred. "Rosie baby get up, we need to get going." The blonde turned over in her sleep, opening her eyes for a few moments before letting them close again.

"Mm," was all she said in reply.

"Come on Rosie, we were meant to leave at midday." The blonde sighed loudly, glancing at the clock and pulling herself up out of the bed. Pulling off her dress, she exposed her red lace bra that matched her shoes perfectly, and I realised she'd either gone commando last night or lost her panties in the process.

"Don't ask," she laughed, "because I don't remember." She replaced the tight black dress that had moments ago shown off her perfect figure with a long peach coloured maxi dress. Kicking off her favourite heels, she pulled on a pair of Jimmy Choo flip flops and smiled.

"I'm ready," she said, before catching her own reflection in the mirror and gasping in horror at her makeup. She had black eye shadow smudged down her face, one earring in and a small, suspicious looking bruise on her neck. Quickly, she covered up the probable-hickey with concealer and fixed the rest of her face, applying a little sparkly red eye shadow that had become the blonde Swan's trademark.

A little something about us Swan sisters – we were twins, although Rosie was older by about an hour – and since we'd been conceived in my mother's womb, we were best friends. So naturally, when Rose had been offered a two year contract as _the_ _face of Chanel_, she'd begged them to meet her sister. And at first, a double deal was off the cards, but after they'd realised they could turn this into a huge marketing campaign, the deal was ours. But marketing changed, and when our contract was over, we graciously stepped down, promising Karl we'd do Milan fashion week and maybe even Paris, if he asked nicely enough. 

Of course, we'd been working for two years straight in what could easily be considered the most exciting job possible, and we weren't exactly ready to turn away from our fun filled, eccentric lifestyles. So we were left with one option – college. Palm Bay College, a few hours north of Miami, was the place where all the little trust fund brats and daddy's girls went to buy their education. Rose and I were from humble beginnings – our dad was a cop and mum…well, mum never really did much other than encourage Rose's modelling. Thankfully, that had gotten us here, to the Penthouse apartment of _The Plaza_; with our range rover and our Lamborghini waiting downstairs, a holiday house purchased in the Bahamas, and our College educations _more_ than paid for, we were no longer left wanting for anything.

The Swan sisters…well, we had it all.


	2. Bartenders

**A/N: **

_Disclaimer - I own nothing_

Enjoy! And please review!

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><p>I pulled my snapback down a little lower on my head, stepping closer to the applications desk. I could feel the eyes of the pervert behind me – some spiky haired stoner – running up my legs, to the shorts I now regretted wearing. They showed off half my toned ass – Hollywood personal trainers were tough, but they were nothing if not thorough. They got results if you stuck to what they told you.<p>

When I reached the front of the line, I smiled at the lady waiting behind the desk. Her eyes lingered on me for a moment, and then on Rosalie next to me, but Rose's pursed lips told her all she needed to know – keep quiet, don't cause a scene. She smiled back at us and took our names, before handing us each a folder.

"Freshman orientation will be tomorrow, and there is a breakout party at the U-Bar tonight. Your roommate has already arrived and these are your keys," she said, handing each of us a black key card. We took our orientation kits and left discreetly.

Now, we'd tried to dress inconspicuously, but unfortunately, the word subtle was not always synonymous with fashionable, and we weren't going to sacrifice the latter. Could you imagine the shock horror if the Swans were found at a college campus in Florida wearing sweatpants and jerseys?

Rose was sporting a white lace crop top with a long, crimson maxi skirt, with a pair of large sunglasses. She carried a DKNY tote bag, which was packed full of her essentials. I slipped my phone out of her bag, as I hadn't brought one, and dialled a number. After a few rings, the voice on the other end answered.

"Hello?" a male voice answered.

"Jacque!" I bubbled, my voice oozing with happiness. I hadn't talked to our mentor and agent for almost a month, since we'd been in Europe for the past few weeks before Karl flew us into Miami first class.

"Isabella!" he cooed back, "are you ready for your bags to be sent to your apartment? I just called the movers, they can be there within the next hour."

"Perfect," I replied. "Thankyou Jacque." Jacque was like a best friend and a mentor, and he always knew what we needed when we called. Mum had hired him after we'd started making it big time – and for the last two years, he'd organised our affairs, scheduled our parties, and kept us rich.

Rose got into her Range Rover, whilst I slipped into the Lamborghini next to it, attracting more than a few curious looks from the guys around – hot girls getting into hot cars. I was almost positive I heard a few cries of excitement – "Is that them? The Swans?", and "Look at that chick driving that stick shift…".

The apartment building was a few minutes drive from campus, and I figured I'd walk to classes most days. We parked in the basement, and took the elevator up to the 9th floor. We had to slip our key cards in before the elevator doors opened exclusively to our split level apartment – the first thing I saw was a completely white reception room. It had arched hallways and white furniture, fresh tulips everywhere and a kitchen adjoining the living area. In three of the corners there was a door to each of the bedrooms, and out of one of them, sprang a short slim girl, with spiky black hair. She was wearing a White Oscar de la Renta suit jacket and a matching pencil skirt, with Cobalt blue heels.

As soon as her eyes landed on us stepping out of the elevator, she squealed.

"Oh my god! So it's true! When I saw the doors to two of the rooms said Rosalie and Isabella – I couldn't – I mean…wow!" she cried ecstatically.

I could tell this girl was impressed – but not so impressed that she couldn't form a constructive sentence. We smiled at her, walking forward to properly introduce ourselves.

"I'm Alice," she said, casually extending a perfectly manicured hand to shake ours.

"Isabella and Rosalie," my twin said happily. "Love your jacket by the way," she added.

"So you should," Alice giggled. "You modelled it for Oscar at New York Fashion Week."

"Jesus! Are you like a stylist?" I asked her, but she shook her head vehemently.

"No actually, one better. I'm a designer. Would you like to see some of my pieces?" she asked, suddenly excited. Rosalie and I both nodded in anticipation as the shorter girl lead us to her room. Her walls were already dedicatedly adorned with clippings from Harpers Bazaar and French Vogue. She had one wall covered in designs - some were her inspirations, taken from Chanel and independent fashion hauses, whilst others were original pieces. She lead us to her closet opening one of the many doors and pulling our a few dresses and accessories.

"Most of my stuff hasn't arrived yet, but these are my favourites," she grinned, extending some of the pieces to us. The first one I picked up was a short dark blue mini dress that changed between a thick tulle and a silky velvet. It was high necked and had a very low cut back, finishing just under where I imagined would be the back dimples. Rosalie was admiring a fiery red number, and I saw Alice becoming one of our very good friends.

"Tell you what Alice...how about you lend Rose and I these dresses for the U Bar party tonight, and we'll take pictures and have them sent to a couple of ateliers. We could have them sewing up all those amazing designs on the wall there so that you can get a collection together. Your stuff is amazing!"

Alice's jaw fell open in surprise. "You mean...oh my god. You would do that for me?"

Rosalie pulled our new friend closer to herself in a one armed hug. "Alice, we're roommates now, and with just one look at your room and your style, I know we'll be like sisters before you know it. Speaking of - our clothes should be arriving soon, so you can feel free to borrow anything anytime."

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><p>It was well after lunchtime by the time we'd settled in to our apartment, packing our clothes away and hanging our favourite pieces in our shared walk in closet. The doorbell rang around eight, as we were preparing for the Breakout party, and Alice, who'd been lounging on the ottoman and fixing her makeup, jumped.<p>

She straightened the yellow dress she was wearing, centering the plunging neckline, and slipped her feet into some ridiculously high Manolos shed just borrowed from me. Running to the elevator, she pressed the open button and a handsome blonde guy stepped in, sweeping her into his arms and pecking her on the forehead. "You look beautiful," he told her, before glancing around and allowing his eyes to fall onto Rose and I. This was the ultimate boyfriend test - if he stuttered and trembled at the sight of his girls two roommates, he wasn't worth her time. But instead he tipped his head at us and spoke in a charming southern accent. "Y'all must be my girls' roommates. Now y'all ready to go? I'm always designated driver for my Allie here, so if y'all ever need to get somewhere and won't be able to drive back, I'm here."

I smiled at the handsome Texan boy - Alice sure had done well for herself.

"I'm Isabella," I grinned, "and a lift would be fantastic. Let me grab our shoes and we'll be ready to go." I slipped into our room, picking out Rosalie's favourite ruby encrusted Louboutins and my own white wedges that I'd found at a boutique in Paris. When I came back out and passed Rose her shoes, they'd finished introductions, and we left in a shiny black BMW. Alice's boyfriend, whose name was Jasper, was a third year Pre-Law student, and was only coming to this party to protect his girl. To me, he seemed a little clingy, but to each their own - Alice seemed absolutely smitten with him, unable to keep her fingertips from roaming down his chest when we stepped out of the car. Whispering to the bouncer, Jasper motioned for us to cut the ridiculous cue.

Rose took my hand as we entered the crowded club, music blasting from all around. I was going to need a drink – and fast.

The four of us slipped through the crowd, being ogled by men and creating a stir of whispers amongst the girls. One brave one, a curly haired brunette, stepped forward and shouted over the blasting music.

"Are you Isabella Swan?" she called excitedly, hugging me. I stepped away, a little shocked, but regained my composure and gave her a small smile. "I'm Jessica!" she continued. "And you – you're Rosalie!" she called to the blonde next to me. She seemed rather overwhelmed, so Rose blew her a kiss and patted her on the shoulder before pulling me ahead and sitting down at the bar, Alice and Jasper in tow. I tipped my forehead down, trying to remain discreet, when a velvety voice spoke from behind me.

"Can I get you ladies a drink?"

My head almost snapped up instantly – I'd never heard so beautiful a voice in my life, and when I looked up, my eyes fell upon a boy – no, a man – more beautiful than all the male models I'd met over the years. He had copper hair that was perfectly messy, and emerald green eyes. His creamy skin was calling to me and I couldn't help but notice the tone in his muscles under his tight black t-shirt.  
>His eyes brightened upon connecting to mine and my heart started beating faster – and yet slower – all at once.<p>

"Hi…" I said, a little dazed. What the fuck was going on? I was a Swan, this wasn't meant to phase me, but he had. "Could I get a sex on the beach?" I asked, finding my poise again.

I lost it moments later, when he replied with a wink, "I'm sure you could have anything you wanted if you asked nicely enough."


End file.
